“I also have no friends,” Vik says, shrugging. “But I like this. I prefer the alone.”
West shakes his head at him. “You’re full of shit, bro. You just don’t want to have to learn better English.”
Vik shrugs. “Maybe yes, maybe no.”
I laugh and take a pull of my beer.
So far, living together has been seamless. Vik keeps to himself a lot, and West is an amazing cook. We still don’t know if our fourth roommate is going to join us, so the three of us are settling into a routine. But we’re not close yet. That takes time.
So, I’m glad I bit the bullet, calling Jayne and taking her to lunch. Despite West’s reservations about her intentions, I like the idea of meeting a woman without any pressure. And she’s not like anyone else I’ve ever gone out with. Reserved, incredibly smart, and a bit shy too. It’s refreshing. I also really liked that she’s not trying too hard. She’s confident enough in her own skin to be comfortable not layering on makeup or whatever. She likes me, I’m pretty sure of that, but isn’t going overboard trying to impress me.
Even her clothes—the same ones she referred to as dowdy librarian—turn me on. In the grand scheme of things, they might be a little dowdy, but that’s not how I see it. Everything about her pretty skirt and frilly blouse is feminine. Sweet. Sexy in an understated way. That’s new to me and I didn’t realize how much I would like it until now.
On the other hand, I don’t know what she looks like, but I’ve had some deep conversations with Jeannie, the kind I’ve never had with anyone else. I like the fact that I can talk about losing my parents because the only other time I do is with my therapist.
The truth is, I never had a chance to grieve my parents because I had to be strong for Billie. It wasn’t until I started therapy that I realized how much it impacted me. Therapy is ongoing but it will slow down once hockey season starts, which is why I’ve been working so hard on myself.
Except Jeannie. It feels like I can tell her anything other than who I am, which is weird. I don’t blame Jayne for being cautious if her father really is a celebrity, but it makes it hard for us to bond because I have walls up too.
The whole thing is a bit confusing, but I don’t want to be stressed about it. I just want to keep talking to Jeannie and spending time with Jayne so I can see what there is to see. I’m not ready to make some kind of life-changing choice.
Besides, it’s almost time for me to focus on hockey.
Once the season starts, I may not have much time for either of them.
I decide to surprise Jayne, maybe take her to a late lunch or early dinner. But when I walk into the library on Saturday morning, the place is hopping. It’s eleven-thirty, and Jayne told me Story Time is from ten to eleven, but apparently all those kids are still here, running around and generally being nuisances. They’re cute, but really loud for a library. Jayne’s boss doesn’t look at all upset, gently reminding them to use their inside voices and picking up one little girl who fell.
“Hi, Bodi.” She smiles. “If you’re looking for Jayne, she’s upstairs shelving some books. Go on up.”
“You sure you don’t need any help wrangling the little ones?” I ask, grinning.
“Not my first day in a library,” she replies, grinning.
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” I take the stairs up to the second floor and wander up and down the aisles looking for Jayne. This place is bigger than I thought and there are so many nooks and crannies to get lost in.
Fun places to make out in too.
I wonder if Jayne has ever made out in a library.
I never have so that could be a first for us both. My gut tells me she’s not very experienced, but that’s okay with me. I probably have enough experience for both of us.
If I’m honest with myself, I’ve had a lot of fun but mostly the wrong kinds of fun. One-night stands where I snuck out in the morning without a backward glance. Getting so falling-down drunk that Blake had to put me to bed. Pranks on my teammates. All kinds of things that don’t mean much in the grand scheme of life.
Going forward, I’d like to make different kinds of memories. Travel. Enjoy good food. Go to the theater. Things I never had the money or inclination to do.
And Jayne might be the type of woman I could do those things with. I honestly don’t think she’s had much fun of any kind in her life either.
I’ve almost given up on finding her when I hear a softly muttered, “Shit!”
There she is.
I can’t help but smile at the picture she makes—she’s delightfully disheveled, tendrils of hair have escaped her ponytail and are framing her face. She’s wearing a reddish-brown skirt that falls just below her knees and a white button-upblouse with one sleeve rolled up to her elbow and the other down around her wrist. She’s got two arms full of books and is glaring at the shelf in front of her like it seriously offended her.
“Jayne!” I call out to her, intending to warn her that one foot is right on the edge of the step, but instead, I startle her.
“Oh!” She lets out a yelp, the books tumble out of her arms, and she loses her balance.
I move instinctively, getting there in time to catch her, but the force of her fall brings us both to the ground, and we land with a resounding thump.
